


101 Nights With Frank Castle

by Mayloc



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, eventual smut probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayloc/pseuds/Mayloc
Summary: Frank and Karen developing their relathionship Post S1.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I read a lot of great fics about this topic lately, so this wasn't really necesary lol, but I coudn't help but write my own version. It will be kind of a series of one shots. Still don't know how many. Hope you enjoy it :)

**Prologue**

Frank Castle did know fear. War was all about blood and shit and fear and - as far as he could remember - he had been fighting a war all his life. He was used to it. He felt _comfortable_ with it most of the time. A good soldier had to know fear if he wanted to survive, because fear could help you to stay alert and focus if you knew how to use it properly. Undomesticated fear, though, could eat you alive, and Frank had seen too many men losing their shit in the battlefield to be damn sure of it.

Frank had learnt to embrace this own fear long time ago because there was no other option if he wanted to survive. The fear of dying in some goddamn dusty dessert too far away from Maria’s touch, the fear of never seeing his children ever again that it never disappeared. The feeling was always there in every single mission, running down his spine. So he had to keep moving, to keep shooting, to keep _breathing_ day after day to get the shit done to come home. In those moments, he preserved his fear as a treasure. He knew what it looked like, what it felt like. He could recognize it smell. He could control it and make it his best weapon, because Frank knew that once you were capable of understand your own fear, you could understand _everyone_ else’s. And, in the middle of those fucking nights standing in front of the enemy, that knowledge made him stronger.

When his family was taken away from him, the fear became anger. After that day, the only feeling left was _rage_. Rage and guilt and loneliness. He gladly let those feelings took over his soul until they became his best friends, eating everything else inside him. They were the perfect ingredients of his revenge, and with the portrait of his family at his side and all the memories locked down inside his chest, he didn’t need any other thing while blood of murderers and criminals was being spilled around the country because of _The Punisher_. Frank Castle didn’t feel fear any of those times because there was nothing left for him to be afraid of anymore.

Until Karen.

**One**

Karen Page used to believe in destiny. When she was a child, she had an unnerving propensity to see hints of that magical hand of fate in every single detail surrounding her, and she secretly enjoyed to drive her parents crazy by choosing the other way around and always taking the opposite of what they had expected: blue over pink, piano over guitar or basketball over cheerleading, just because she _knew_ she was the only one catching the signals. She was a smart girl and she had learned to pay attention. Through the years - and thankfully for everyone around her - that fascination to find the bigger plan in every single dust dot kind of simmered down, and her interest eventually shifted to resolve more mundane problems like to find out who had stolen her brother’s bike or why Miss Anderson’s curtains were always closed. But even then, Karen was still a strong believer that everything happened for a reason. From time to time, she would find herself thinking longingly about what destiny was planning for her and smiling hopeful at the future.

But then his brother suddenly died and her world felt slowly apart in the years that followed.

When Kevin died, her family died with him. They were never a perfect family or even a happy one, but without Kevin and the beginning of her obsessive quest for answers, the loneliness took over Karen’s life without mercy. If that was what destiny had been planning for her, she decided that she didn’t want to be part of it anymore; she was going to _fight it_. Karen left Vermont making that promise to herself and to Kevin, and she had been fighting since and against all odds, every time destiny had tried to knocked her out in that hell of a city.

Karen knew loneliness painfully well, but she had known happiness too, she _remembered_ it, and after all the things she had been through, she wasn’t willing to give up her hope for things to get better. She was still a fighter.

On good days, being all by herself wasn’t so bad. She took long walks around the city and aromatic lavender baths to clear her mind and to relax her body. She tried to cook some silly cake for work just to watch Ellison’s sceptical expression while eating his probably too sugary portion, and she even was able to sleep more than three hours at a time.

On bad days, her memories came back to haunt her. She let herself cried and then she tried to hold on to the things that made her happy, like her work at the Bulletin or sharing a beer with Foggy from time to time now that Matt was gone.

On lucky days, she managed to get out alive from _yet_ another kidnapping. 

Three weeks was all she could wait before calling agent Madani. Karen knew she was recovering from some bad head injury taken in a fight in Central Park – that had been barely notified to the press in which Karen thought it was a suspicious manner - and she didn’t want to sound anxious over Frank Castle’s safety in front of a federal agent, as much as she thought agent Madani could have help him at some point. Frank had been reported dead - once again - a week after the hotel explosion, but Karen had refused to believe it. It was too convenient.

She tried to put some flowers on her window at first – same white roses he had brought her - but, when nothing happened a week later, she felt kind of silly for trying and took them off.

Frank had been vanished once again and, even if she didn’t want to believe it, the truth was that he _actually_ could be dead and she was increasingly worried. By the third week after the hotel incident, Karen hadn’t slept enough to be a functional person anymore.

Once agent Madani answered the phone, she didn’t really have to ask.

“Off the record?”

“Of course.”

“He is a free man now.”

And that was it. Karen doubted that Frank Castle could ever be a free man _at all_ but she just nodded and thank her, breathing a sigh of relief and being still surprised by the news when she hung up. Frank was alive and he was no longer being persecuted by justice. It was way better than _anything_ she had expected to hear.

But then, the feeling of loneliness hit her bones harder than usual.

_Three weeks._

****

It was really cold on the waterfront when Karen arrived, with the sun already setting. She didn’t intend to go there in the first place but, somehow, during her walk, her own steps carried her to the exact point where she and Frank had been meeting barely a month ago. It had been a long week of work at the newspaper and Ellison had been grumpier than usual with all that Christmas spirit that was already filling the air of the city. It was almost Friday night at the office and, having her article for the next number ready, her first thought was to call Foggy to invite him to dinner. Then, she remembered that he had a girlfriend now and, since Matt wasn’t around anymore, every time they met, they made each other sad with all their shared Nelson & Murdock memories. So she had changed her mind in the last minute. Again.

Karen had finally left the Bulletin with her head full of words about a series of unresolved houses robberies that she had been following for the last two weeks, and without any other plan, she had decided to take a walk before going home to clear her mind.

She had been watching the landscape for a while, last rays of the Friday sun reflected in the quiet water. It was really calm there with just some couples passing by, and Karen let her eyes closed for a second, allowing herself a brief moment of peace.

She heard some footsteps approaching as she opened her eyes again.

“Hey.”

Frank was standing right there, looking cautiously at her. His presence didn’t felt real at first, and Karen needed a moment to focus.

“Is this a coincidence?”

Frank shrugged, smiling slightly.

Of course _it wasn’t_. Just like it wasn’t a coincidence last time he approached her as a homeless man in the street.

“You called Madani.”

Karen looked away, her gaze focused on the soft waves of water as her heart was pounding faster.

“Did she tell you?”

_Did you call her?_

“Not exactly.”

She looked at him again. As far as Karen knew, Frank didn’t need to hide anymore, yet he was wearing that kind of undefined sportsman outfit with that black hoddie that he seemed to be comfortable with. Even with his hood on, Karen could tell that his hair was longer than the last time she saw him, and that a thick beard was growing fast all over his face. He looked more like a boxer than a marine.

“¿Are you spying on a federal agent now?”

“No, ma’am.”  The shadow of the beard framed his jaw when he smiled at her openly. “We just have a friend in common.”

_David Lieberman._

Karen didn’t say it. She didn’t have to. Instead -

“I’m glad you have friends, then. I heard you are a free man now.”

Frank frowned and looked away, as he was physically rejecting those words.

“Yeah, well - I guess Pete Castiglione is.”

“Pete?”

He nodded.

Pete Castiglione. Karen looked at _Pete_ while trying to reconcile the name with the man that was standing in front of her. It didn’t work well.

With a stoic movement, Frank put his hood down, his gaze steady in the middle of the dark while looking at her again.

“I didn’t mean to disappear like that, Karen. I j-just wanted to let you know that. I wanted to let you know I wasn't dead. I mean, I- I wanted to let you know _sooner_.”

She felt her breath painfully catch in her chest.

_Three weeks._

“¿What happened?”

“Things just got –uhm- complicated.” He paused and Karen nodded. She knew Frank well enough to understand that, in his vocabulary, _complicated_ usually implied a huge amount of blood and dead bodies.

“It wouldn´t be you if it wasn’t complicated.”

His smile reflected hers.

“I try my best.”

An apology was the last thing Karen had expected from Frank Castle. She wasn’t even sure she had the right to demand one – or  _anything_ \- from a man that have been saving her life practically since the day they met. A man that had been acting more like a ghost to the world than anything real. But there he was anyway, offering her one in his own way, and it was very welcomed.

Karen checked his exposed face out for a moment, leaning a little bit closer by instinct. There were no bruises on his skin that she could tell, no scratches to be seen. It was almost odd to be looking at Frank that _clean_ and kind of hypnotizing. Last time she had paused to check on him like that, they were standing in an elevator after an explosion. He was awfully damaged after saving her life once again _._

And he was _definitely_ closer.

The knot she was feeling in her chest pulled a bit tighter and Karen look away maybe a little too rudely. She had to clear her throat before she could say another word.

“And how is Pete doing so far?”

Frank moved his head from side to side while shrugging. Karen was sure that his new identity wasn’t feeling like a gift at all. She was surprised that he had even accepted the chance.

“Trying to figure it out what the hell is gonna do with his new life I guess.”

For a moment, he looked exhausted under – what Karen knew – was the weight of that new life that has just started.

“Don’t be too hard on him. He will do well, eventually.”

Frank burst a short laugh, and they remained silent for a couple of minutes. The temperature had dropped quite a bit, and her body was starting to shake.

“Tell me, Miss Page. What is a woman like you doing in a cold place like this on a Friday night?”

She was the one shrugging this time, holding back a shiver.

“Just walking.”

Frank nodded.

“Let's just walk, then.” Karen looked at him, confused. Then she focused on the arm he was offering her. "Come on. I'll walk you home before you freeze to death."

“It’s that Pete or Frank asking?”

“Both.”

He was gazing at her in amusement and Karen couldn’t help but laugh.

_What the hell._

Maybe they could pretend, if just for a moment, that they were just two regular people walking home on a Friday night. Maybe it felt _good._ She slipped her hand through the crook of Frank’s arm with a soft movement while leaning toward him, the warm of his body wrapping her as they started walking.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank gave her a cell phone number that night before leaving.

“In case you need to reach me.” He said.

Karen was a bit surprised at first, but then she just assumed that now that he was - at least on paper - a normal citizen with no criminal record, they could just move towards a communication method more suitable for the twenty-first century than a pot of flowers in a window. Although she really liked the flowers.

In fact, Karen had actually started buying some white roses each week, just for the sake of having them around. In a way, the house felt less empty with those flowers shining inside, and she liked that. She felt welcomed every time she came back at her apartment. Men had bought her flowers before a couple of times – even if not with that explicit purpose, and surely with _very_ different intentions – but they were never white roses. Karen appreciated the irony that something so delicate and pure reminded her irrevocably - from the moment that he show up with the flowers - of such an overwhelming force of nature as Frank Castle was.

She had been staring vacantly for too long at her new fresh pot - which was placed at the other side of the table - when a loud beep woke her up. Her laptop’s battery was running low and she needed to plug it in if she didn’t want to lose what she had been writing down so far for her next article - which, to be fair, was almost _nothing._

She took the opportunity to stretch her neck and her hurting back while getting up from the chair and doing so. Her cup of coffee was already empty, so she walked through the kitchen to start filling it for the third time in the last few hours. She took just a small sip before her stomach growled loudly- making her aware that she was actually _starving._ It was way past dinner and she had barely eaten half of a sandwich early in the morning.

Karen glanced at the almost blank screen and sighed. The delivery date for the next Sunday issue was less than twenty four hours away. If she wasn’t able to gather her ideas together into a productive train of thought _shortly_ , soon enough she was going to start writing about the damn flowers.

Her stomach growled again, and she finally decided that it was time to fill her body with something solid. She didn’t have high expectations when she opened her fridge, though. Luckily enough, she still had some leftovers - fried rice and sesame chicken - from the Chinese food she had ordered two days ago. She picked up the oyster pail and a fork – she was too tired to try to use the chopsticks properly - and opened up a beer before sitting down in front of her screen again.

She didn’t like working from home because she could never concentrate properly, but it had been a busy day at the _Bulletin_. A direct bomb threat has been sent to the newspaper early in the afternoon and the building had been evacuated – according to the protocol - once it had been reported to the police. After Lewis, that kind of threats had been spreading like a plague across the city, and Karen didn’t have any other option but to go home sooner.

She had just started eating when the buzz of her cell phone startled her enough to make a piece of the saucy chicken slip from her fork and over the laptop.

_Shit._

Karen was still swearing while trying to clean the mess, when her eyes caught the name on the buzzing screen. She had saved the number just as _Pete._ Her heart jumped into her mouth like the fucking chicken.

“Fra-”

_Shit._

She was never gonna get used to it.

“I hear about the newspaper. You ok?”

It took her a second to process the sound of his rough voice assaulting her ear.

“Yeah, fine. It was just a false alarm.”

“You know I’m starting to think that your job defending criminals was the safe one.”

Karen made her smile audible.

“Don’t be so sure. Last time I was checking on a client in a hospital I was shot.”

A brief tsk.

“It was just some shooting _in your general direction_. And didn´t the guy apologise shortly after?”

“He didn’t, actually.”

Karen heard a distant snort. A couple of hesitant seconds passed.

“What about Murdock? Did he?”

Her heart shrunk a little at the mention of Matt. 

“He never shot _in my general direction_.”

“You know what I mean.”

 She did. Karen remembered their very first and last discussion about Matt very well.

“Yeah, he did. Before he-, well-”

“Before he disappeared?”

That was unexpected. Karen hadn’t told him anything about Matt, and she doubted that Frank had any interest in Matt Murdock anyway, but the disappearance of the Devil of Hell’s kitchen had been reported everywhere. _Did he knew?_

“Did you-?

“Don’t think he’s dead.”

Of course he knew.

“Me neither.” It was true. She could felt it in her gut just like she had felt it with Frank before she had the confirmation that he was actually alive, but that didn't make the lost of Matt easier. Karen took a deep breath, the conversation in the diner that night with Frank still circling in her head.“But you were wrong.”

“About what?”

“I love him and I miss him because he is family but I don’t- _love_ him.” The words left her mouth in a rush and she felt herself blushing before adding- “That day- you were talking about something I wasn’t feeling for him.”

A brief silence and then-

“I was trying to get you the hell away from me, Karen. And look how well it worked.”

Karen burst a laugh. She could hear Frank laughing too.

“I guess we were inevitable.”

She felt herself blushing again, her hear pounding faster.

“I guess.” The rough breathing of Frank was there again, loud and clear. For a second she wondered what it would it be like feeling it directly against her ear. “Take care, Karen.”

 “Take care yourself, Frank.”

She needed a moment to recompose herself from the thought after hanging up the phone.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Bulletin_ was almost empty that night- Christmas Carol singing in the distant, a sweet and slightly alcoholic smell in the air as some of the offices' lights were going off.

Karen’s fingers were typing mechanically, eyes moving slowly across the computer screen. She heard some steps approaching but she didn’t bother to tilt her head to the door to see who it was. She didn’t need to.

“Have you seen The Ghost of Christmas Past walking around this office? Because I think I’m having a massive _déjà vu_ here.”

Karen raised her eyebrows at Ellison, barely looking at him as he stepped into her office – _Ben’s office._

“Ha ha.”

“I think it’s _ho ho,_ if just for accuracy’s sake.”

Karen shot him a quick an unamused look as he placed himself at the edge of the couch.

“Fucking _ho_.”

She was typing fast, trying to stay focus, but Ellison didn’t seem to care.

“Why are you still here, Karen? I found your article in my inbox two hours ago.”

“I’m working on a new story.” She was still typing, but the words jumbled together in her mind as she spoke and before she could write any other sentence. Karen snorted. “But now I’ve lost my train of thoughts. Thank you, Ellison.”

She moved away from the computer while sitting up in the chair to look at her boss, arms crossed. He chuckled, unimpressed by her bad mood.

“Why the hell are you still here on _yet another_ Christmas Eve, Karen?”

 _Why indeed_.

Karen sighed.

_Because I don’t have anywhere else to go._

The answer was simple, the reasons much more complicated. Karen didn’t have family, not really, and the family she had found in the city wasn’t even there. Mat was gone and Foggy was out of town with Marci. She didn’t have anybody else.

“I- love my work?”

“Karen-.”

“Just twenty more minutes, okay?”

Ellison sighed while looking up at nothing in particular, ignoring her.

“I hope you’re happy Ben. You’ve created a monster”. Yeah, I _know_ you’re happy you inquisitive bastard.” Karen smiled sadly at the memory of Ben. She was planning to visit Doris the next day with a little Christmas present that it was already packed in one of her desk’s drawers. Ellison looked back at her “I’m happy too a _nd_ worried.”

“Twenty minutes and I’ll leave it. I promise.”

Ellison leaned forward, eyes half-closed behind his black glasses.

“I don’t like being lied straight to my face Karen. Especially on Christmas.”

“You don’t even like Christmas, Ellison, and I do love my job.”

He grunted, tossing her beard a couple of second before answering- that suspicions look that Karen knew so well right there in his eyes when he took his glasses off.

“It’ll better be a hell of an article.”

She smiled at him.

“It will be. Can I have my Scotch now, Mister Scrooge?”

Twenty minutes later, Karen was closing her office’s door and taking her heels off while sitting on the couch- a glass of Scotch on her hand and the Christmas lights twinkling against her window as her only company. Sure she could go to her apartment, but she wasn’t in the mood to face an empty house that night, at least not yet, and either way, her office was feeling a lot more like home lately.

She had been thinking about Frank, or to be fair, she had been thinking about him _more than usual._ She wanted to call him, she wanted to see him, but Karen doubted that _Feeling lonely at Christmas_ was on the list of Frank Castle’s emergency situations to call him up. Feeling lonely at Christmas _and bleeding_ could have made it, though. And that was the kind of situation in which she preferred not to be involved anyway. Even if her damn long bloody record was speaking the contrary.

She took a drink from her glass.

_It helps to not care so much, huh?_

It would be easier to not care if Frank wasn’t the one usually bleeding around and bleeding more than anybody else. Or at least, more than anybody else who was still breathing.

Karen took another drink. Her phone was on the table.

_How to say Merry Christmas to a man that has lost what he’s lost?_

She shook her head, feeling a little ashamed for even thinking about the possibility of sharing her loneliness, if just for one night, with the loneliest man in the world. She emptied her glass at one gulp before putting it on the floor- then she curled herself into the couch thinking about Kevin.

 

_“We are gonna be late, Kev.”_

_Karen hears a distant snort coming from the other side of the closed door and waits. A couple of steps approach before the door opens with a sudden._

_“I don’t even wanna go.”_

_His brother is pouting right in front her, big blue eyes matching hers- his face has a frown on it that Karen finds really cute._

_“I know but it’s an important night for Paxton. We have to be there.”_

_Kevin can’t help but smile at that little sign of rebellion. It was always Paxton or Mister Page between them and not “father” when no one was listening. Calling Paxton Page “father” was an insult for the ones that really care about their children._

_“They won’t notice us anyway.”_

_He turns around to face himself in the mirror of the bathroom- fingers brushing a rebel lock of hair away from his face._

_Karen knows Paxton Page doesn’t care as long as the portrait of the perfect and happy family is done right in front of their guests, while their mother will be too drank to worry- but you don’t really have a choice when you are a part of the Paxton’s clan, one of the most powerful business families in Vermont._

_“Come on, pretty boy, five minutes smiling and shaking hands to strangers and we’ll be done to do wherever we like. There are gonna be girls.”_

_She winks at his reflection in the mirror and burst a laugh as Kevin grimaces weirdly at her while buckling the last buttons of his white shirt._

_“Don’t say it like that.”_

_The tie is a mess in his hands and he's so flustered that Karen can’t help but giggle._

_“Stop it. You are doing it wrong again. Let me help.”_

_Kevin turns around to face Karen- her fingers already moving over the soft silk around his neck until the tie knot is easily done._

_“I have no idea how you do it so fast.”_

_“It’s a gift.” Karen smiles, holding his jacket out for him. “Let’s go.”_

_“Sorry I’ve stained your dress, Karen.”_

_She frowns in confusion while following Kevin eyes from her face to his chest. When she looks down, Kevin’s white shirt has turned red- her hands covered in blood._

 

Karen woke up with a start- her heart hammering in her chest.

For a frightening moment, she didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know _when_ she was and her hands were shaking. She fixed her eyes on the blood in those hands that was no longer there.

“Easy there, Karen.”

The pressure of some other hands on her shoulders made her look up.

“Frank?”

“Hey.”

Karen was still disoriented- her eyes moving around the room trying to find some anchor point with the current present.

Couch.

Frank.

Empty glass on the floor.

Frank.

Christmas lights over the window.

Frank.

Desk.

Computer.

Scotch.

Frank.

“You okay?”

She nodded, breathing deep and still trembling a little- the vision of Kevin covered in blood fresh in her mind.

_Frank._

 

“What the hell are you doing in my office at this tim- _what time is it?_ ”

Frank moved his hands away from her to grab a chair and he sat in front of her.

“Past midnight. Your security system is snoring _Jingle Fucking Bells_ over the table.” He chuckled. “Merry Christmas.”

_How to say Merry Christmas to a man that has lost what he’s lost?_

“Why are you here, Frank?”

He shrugged-his hands picking some bag up from the floor at his side.

“Just passing by.” Karen’s nose caught a delicious smell and her stomach growled audibly. She had skipped dinner yet again. Frank giggled at the sound. “It’s a special delivery from the Liebermans- Turkey, mashed potatoes, some stuffing and cranberry sauce. Thought you may wanted to share.”

“How did you know I was here?”

Frank shrugged again.

“Lucky guess. Your phone was disconnected and this building was nearer that your apartment.”

Karen looked at her cell phone still on the desk. It should have run out of battery while she was sleeping.

“It’s good to know that my poor social life is that obvious.” Frank seemed lost for a moment, and Karen had the impression that he was about to apologize for something that he didn’t quite understand. She smiled slightly at him. “It’s ok. I’m glad you are here.”

She grabbed the bag and moved to one side to let Frank space to sit down next to her. Her body shifted to his when the couch cave in a little under his weight and her heart jumped at the warm touch.

They started to take the containers out of the bag as Karen tried to concentrate on the food. 

“Wow. This looks delicious.”

 Karen was impressed that there were even two pairs of plastic cutlery and some paper napkins. She looked at Frank- both eyebrows rised but he just shrugged. 

“David doesn't take no for an answer.”

The turkey tasted wonderful and Karen could’t help speaking with her mouth still full.

“Why did you want to say no to a dinner like this?”

Frank took his time to answer, chewing his food slowly.

“Happy family. Their two kids are great. Similar ages, you know?”

“Oh.”

Karen felt that familiar lump growing in her throat as she caught the devastated look in Frank’s eyes that is there every time he is thinking about his family. Suddenly, she didn’t feel hungry anymore.

“My little girl loved Christmas, you know? I know every kid love Christmas but Lisa was completely crazy over it. She started to decorate her room and the rest of the house on November. _Fucking November._ I never knew how she was able find the damn boxes on the basement and carry them all the way up to the house by her own. One minute it was a normal home and the next the fucking Santa’s house.”

Frank laughed briefly and his sadness shook her all the way. Karen placed her food on the floor and leaned back on the coach – words slipping from her lips.

“My brother loved it too.”

“Loved? Not anymore?”

“He died long time ago.”

Frank looked at her pondering- the same way he did that day in the diner, when he asked her about her gun.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It was a car accident. He was sixteen.”

Frank leaned back next to her with a smooth movement.

“This world is full of shit.”

His voice was almost a whisper and Karen had to fight hard against the tears that were dancing in her eyes.

“Yeah, sometimes it is.”

“Sometimes?" Frank laughed quietly. "Karen Page, the ultimate optimist.”

She shrugged.

“Well, right now it isn’t so bad.” She let her head rest on his shoulder, and Frank Castle had a surprisingly comfortable shoulder. The contact startled him at first, but the tension of his muscles only lasted one second. They stayed that way- Frank’s breathing moving her body to the beat. “Whatever it is you think you owe me, you don’t.”

Karen was becoming drowsy again as she started to feel relaxed.

“What are you talking about?”

She was finding really hard to speak legibly but she needed to say it anyway.

“All this. Looking after me, checking me out… You don’t owe me anything, Frank.”

She heard a distant snort.

“That’s bullshit. _That's bullshit, Karen_ and you know it. Hell if I don’t owe you...the trial, Lieberman, that day with Lewis…” Frank’s voice became even lower. “But that’s not the reason why I’m here.”

“Then why?”

Karen fell asleep before she could hear the answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to play with Karen's past a little here. Since we don't know much, I'm assuming that Karen was just a couple of years older than Kevin and I'm taking the theory that his father was an important bussiness man that didn't really care about his children, and those bussiness had something to do with Kevin's death. I'm picturing her mother here more like a passive figure that is not happy with her life and her marriage even if she enjoys the money they had. I may write some more Karen and Kevin fashbacks. Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the tone of this chapter a little but I think it suits Karen well within this story. Hope it doesn't feel weird. I didn't change the rating because, even if it's more sexual there's no really explicit content, but let me know if you're feeling that I should. Thanks for reading! :)

The New Year couldn’t have started worst for Karen.

She was blaming mostly her shoes at the moment. She shouldn’t have put her yellow heels on. She knew those shoes were bad luck - last time she put them on, she was accused of murder after all- even if they were perfect for her blue dress. She shouldn’t have drunk those fruity cocktails that fast. She shouldn’t have smile _that way_ at the hot waiter. And she _definitely_ shouldn’t have lost her panties in that _well-stocked_ food pantry. Fuck, she even had some canapés leftovers stuck on her hair.

_Fuck you, Foggy._

Sober-Karen knew it wasn’t fair to blame her friend- that it wasn’t his fault if she had acted like a horny and silly teenager in his New Year’s Eve lawyer’s firm party, but Drunk-Karen did need someone to blame apart from herself and her shoes, and blaming the person that had invited her to the fucking party just felt right at that moment.

In fact-

_Fuck you, Foggy and Marci._

That and also –

“Fuck you, Frank Castle!”

She shouted it to the night as she was closing the cab door, and Drunk-Karen felt slightly better- her fucking yellow heels in one hand as she walked inside her building.

She shouldn’t have gone to the damn party to begin with. She wasn’t planning to, but Foggy had insisted, and the truth was that she needed some socialization time with the rest of the world outside The Bulletin from time to time and it was the last night of the year after all.

It seemed that she needed the hands of that hot waiter Jess- _Jim?_ \- on her ass too. When he had asked her to go to the back door during his break, Half-Drunk-Karen had said yes.

Everything was going quite well. Jim – _Jess?_ – had a playful tongue and some expert hands that were bringing shivers all along her body as the canapés’ trays were falling around them, and it did feel good to be _touch_ after so long, to have her back pressed to the wall – hips pushing hard against hers and teeth biting her neck.

But then it happened. Once Jess – _Jim’s?_ fingers started working inside her, she had moaned the name. _The fucking name._

“Who is Frank?”

Sober-Karen felt so embarrassed that she left the pantry running without saying any other word. She had just stopped along her way to find a cab and go home, to drank a couple of more fancy cocktails in one glup - leaving her panties and what she was expecting to be more than one orgasm’s session behind.

_Happy Fucking New Year._

While entering her apartment at three in the morning, Sober-Karen just wanted to pass out in her bed under her blankets until the shame disappeared or sleep for a couple of years, maybe. But she was uncomfortably wet along her thighs and somehow still excited, so Drunk-Karen had decided to find some release first on the shower.

She had never thought of Frank in that _explicitly sexual_ way before. Sure she was attracted to him. More than that- she was hypnotized by his story. She had been so obsessed in her quest to find his humanity since they day she saw that bullet wound in his skull, that it almost had cost her her own life, and by finding it, she had found hers. Frank Castle had reconciled her with the things she had done to survive. They shared a bond and she was very aware of that, just as much as she knew he was aware too, even if he didn’t realized the extent of how important it was for her to have some presence in her life that didn’t judge when she was holding a gun.

But Karen had never dared to fantasize about them being physical. The weight of his lost was too much, his pain so overwhelming when he opened up to her- his body feeling so unsecure every time they touched to think that they could hold that kind of intimacy. Even in the elevator that day, standing so close to each other, the moment passed like a ghost. The shadow of a kiss that was just that- a shadow. _But this?_ His name had slipped from her mouth at his own will when the fingers of another man were fucking her and now she was feeling that urge, now she wanted to be _him_ biting her neck and pressing her body hard against the wall _._

Karen dropped her handbag along with her heels as soon as she walked into her leaving room – scarf and coat barely on the couch. The zipper of her dress got stuck as she tried to unzipped it in her way to her bathroom and she decided to take her dress off over her head, not without practicing a little of contortionism in the process. When Karen finally arrived to her room, she was completely naked.

Frank Castle was right there.

He was just a silhouette among the shadows outside her window, standing in the fire escape, but it was definitely him.

Oh, the fucking _irony._

Sober-Karen wanted to run far far away. Drunk-Karen just started to laugh quite hysterically for more than necessary.

“And here it is, Frank Castle in one of his yet another _stellar appearances_ walking into my life again.”

Frank didn’t say a word and he didn’t move, and Karen wasn’t even sure that he could really hear her at all from the other side of the closed window. At least he had had the decency of not breaking into her apartment while she wasn’t there, not that it fucking mattered.

Drunk-Karen took a couple of steps forward- exposing half of her naked body to the moonlight because it was her damn house and it was her fucking room and why the hell not.

“You wanna come inside? _You wanna come inside and fuck me, Frank?_ Because fucking is what I should be doing right now with Jim or Jess or both, instead of feeling sorry for myself for not having heard a word from you since Christmas Day.”

_Instead of wanting to be fucking you._

Karen had woken up alone that day in a cold couch in her even colder office. She had a blanket covering her that she hadn’t placed there, the dinner’s leftovers of the night before where gone and she had hated it. She had hated him for bringing her another moment of comfort and care, just to take it away from her like that.

And now Frank was right there, a dark and unresponding presence in the middle of the night with his black coat that Karen was sure it was in the process of becoming a statue if he kept staying in the cold _that_ still for much longer.

_Fuck this shit._

She wanted to be seen, she wanted to be heard.

Karen let her dress fell on the bed and her whole skin bristled – her nipples hardening, when she opened the window with both hands and the cold wind came in through and shook her nude body.

Frank was finally _seeing_ her, all pale skin exposed, she was making sure of it. His jaw tensed, but he didn’t look away.

“Fuck you, Frank. _Fuck you_. You’re not allowed to do this, you hear me? _You’re not allowed_ to come into my life without permission whenever you want and make me feel that I’m actually part of something here if I’m not. You’re not allowed if you’re not gonna fucking _stay_.”

Despite being quite close, Karen could barely see his face among the dark – she couldn’t measure Frank’s reaction aside of the tension of his lower jaw bone and the muscles of his neck, and that was what she was hating the most of all that stupid situation. She felt _extremely_ cold and exhausted- all the air from her lungs burst out once she had stopped yelling at Frank’s shadow. Her voice broke.

“If you excuse me, I’m gonna take my shower now. Do whatever the hell you want.”

Frank didn’t say any fucking word when she turned around and walked off her bedroom and that only increased her anger. She didn’t bother to close the window.

Karen did actually masturbate in the shower, fast and quiet- out of pure frustration. She didn’t think of anything- no forbidden names escaping from her lips, no stupid fantasies assaulting her mind, just the needing to shake all the rigidity of her body off. Then she cried.

When she came out of the bathroom after a long shower, Drunk-Karen was almost gone- a slightly headache breaking through. The smell of fresh coffee paralyzed her in her way to her kitchen.

_Shit._

Frank was still there.

 _Of course he was_.

Frank Castle never ran away from a fight and she should have known better.

Her nose caught another smell as she slowly walked in- picking up her heels and her bag from the floor where she had thrown them, as she stepped closer. Frank was indeed in her kitchen. He was cooking something that smelled really good and he had his back to her.

“Hey.”

When he turned around to look at her, Karen crossed her arms around her chest by instinct- bag and shoes shielding her. She was fully clothed –big pink sweater and some black leggings on, but she was feeling more naked than ever. Frank’s eyes moved along her chest and she blushed.

“Nice shoes.” Karen muttered a quiet “thanks” as Frank handed her a cup of coffee. “Here.”

Feeling like an idiot with her hands full, she turned around herself foolishly a couple of times until she decided to leave the shoes and the bag on a chair. Then she sat down in front of the table with her cup of coffee. Frank was serving a pair of French toasts in two plates with some butter and syrup on top.

“Your pantry is a goddamn mess. You should try to eat as a normal person for a chance.”

Frank was talking to her absently while he was cleaning some dishes. Karen tried a bite of her extremely early breakfast and then another. It tasted really good but her pride was stronger that her hunger.

“I’m not gonna apologize just because you made some nice breakfast, Frank.”

He glanced at her, pausing her cleaning for a moment.

“What are you talking about? I’m the one apologizing here.”

He turned his back to her, focusing on the dishes again.

“What the hell were you doing out there in the middle of the night, Frank?”

“You call me.”

Karen almost chocked with a piece of the sweet bread. Her fork slipped from her fingers.

“I- _What?_ When?”

“Two lost calls a couple of hours ago.”

 _Shit_. She didn’t remember that at all.

Frank hadn’t turned around yet and Karen was glad he couldn’t catch her panic face.

“Did I- left you a message?”

“You didn’t, and you didn’t answer back.” Frank looked back at her then and Karen’s eyes dropped. Since she had followed whatever was his name to the back door of the club, she hadn’t checked her phone and it was still inside her bag. “You scare the shit out of me and that’s why I came here. The fire escape was the cleanest way to enter but I did not. I’ve just arrived when I saw you.”

And he did indeed saw her. Hell if she hadn’t let him _see_ her. Karen felt herself bushing again.

“I didn’t- I- _Jesus.”_ She breathed deeply as Frank took a chair to sit next to her. “It’s New Year’s Eve, Frank. People get drank and do stupid things like making stupid calls at three in the morning. You could have thought that it was just that.”

“Not with people like us.”

She knew he was right and hers was a silly argument. You stopped doing those kinds of overtime calls just to say _hello_ when you had experienced more than one life or death situation with the person you were calling. But she have done just that- even if she didn’t remember making those calls and that she probably would have said _more_ than hello.

“I’m sorry I scared you but you need to stop climbing up my window or whatever every time you think I’m in trouble. I can handle myself, Frank.”

Karen knew she wasn’t being entirely fair and the truth was that if he hadn’t showed up all those times before, she may be dead. But it had been a shitty night and she was too tired to play fair.

“I know that. I know that, Karen. But-”

“I don’t need a savior, Frank. I just want you in my life. I want you to be _present_.”

Frank looked at her in what she was sure it was his panic face. She touched his arm and she felt it again - his muscles stiffing at the contact.

“K-Karen, every time you are close to me, you get yourself in trouble. You sure you-”

Karen snorted.

“I’ve been getting myself in trouble since I was nineteen, Frank. Get over yourself.”

Frank burst a short laugh – the tension of his body relaxing a little.

“No surprise there, ma’am.”

 _That._ The reason she needed him. The fact that he wasn’t surprised when the rest of the world that have come to know the Karen she had built around her truly self- aside from Elison in some ways- would have rejected that affirmation. The fact that he could see so easily through her mask.

“You are staying.”

Karen squeezed his arm- Frank’s expression finally softening.

“I’m staying.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time but here we go again.

“I believe I owe you an explanation, Miss Page.”

David Lieberman held out his hand to her, standing surprisingly tall in front of the short table where he was placed at the small coffee shop.

“Please, call me Karen.”

It was late at night, yet the local he had chosen for the meeting was pretty busy. He invited her to take a sit with his free hand.

“Coffe? Beer?”

Lieberman glanced around, searching for one of the waiters while they took their seats.

“I’m fine, thank you. What can I do for you, mister Lieberman?”

“Please, call me David.” He hesitated for a moment, lowering his voice a little. “I’m still alive so I guess you didn’t tell _Pete_ I’ve contacted you.”

Karen smiled briefly.

“I can handle my own business, David. And I know he trusts you.”

David had a clean and friendly glance that felt sincere even if his call that morning had been pretty cryptic itself, especially when he asked her to not talk with Frank about it. He didn’t offer any other clue, but he said it was important and she believed him.

“I assume this is about him.”

“In fact, Karen, this is about you.” Karen’s eyes narrowed, feeling even more intrigued. “Wilson Fisk will be out of prison soon.”

Her body jumped a little in reaction to his words, her mind working fast.

_Shit._

“How do you know that? There’s been no reports until this day.”

“I know it. That’s all.”

Karen didn’t expect any other answer and yet she had no reasons to be suspicious. She knew David’s _searching for answers_ abilities very well after all what had happened between him and Frank. But as far as she knew, Fisk wasn’t an actual threat to Frank and Matt was gone. Unless-

_“This is about you.”_

Karen felt her pulse rising higher.

“ _Why_ did you want to talk with me about it?”

David cleared his throat, now moving uncomfortably in the chair – his voice even lower.

“I know you two have some- _unresolved_ business, and Fisk is a dangerous man.”

“I don’t understand wh-”

“You need to tell Frank.”

Karen looked closely at David, pondering him. Nobody had found out the truth about Wesley after all the time that had passed, but she knew there was no secret you could hide forever.

_Could you know that much?_

“Whatever you think you know, why don’t you just tell Frank?”

David burst out in a short laugh.

“Telling Frank that I’ve been looking into Karen’s Page _secrets_? I appreciate my life much more than that, Karen.”

_Yes, you know._

Karen drew in a sharp breath, closing her eyes for a second.

“If you know what I’ve done. If you know _everything_ , then why do you wanna help me?”

David shrugged like it was no big deal.

“You are important to Frank and Frank is important to me. He has to be prepared.”

Karen leaned on the chair, tossing her hair with both hands – her eyes fixed on the empty cup of coffee that was placed on the table.  

Of course she wanted to tell Frank _everything_. All her secrets burned her throat every time she got closer to him. Every time Frank showed her his demons, Karen wanted to show him hers, _but then what?_ She was sure the moment she would tell Frank, he was going to make it _personal_ and she didn’t want to see him dragged into another war because of her.

But maybe it was going to be inevitable after all.

“I’m so sorry, Karen. I know we don’t know each other. I know it’s not my business. But Frank needs to know. If we have to run at some point, we need to know which way.”

Karen looked back at David, and the resolution she saw in his eyes surprised her.

“We?”

“I’m in. We are a team now, whether Frank likes it or not.”

 

***

Karen didn’t sleep that night but she didn’t call Frank.

They had stablished some kind of a strange routine at nights for the last couple of months. They called each other when they couldn’t sleep just to talk. Sometimes for a couple of minutes and sometimes for hours.

When Frank was the one calling, they usually talked about his family. He had told her everything about Billy and the time he had spent with David and his family. She was familiar with Curtis at that point and she really liked him, although she hadn’t met him in person. Frank’s new life as Pete wasn’t easy but he was trying and Karen was really impressed and proud. No wars ahead.

_How could I tell him what I’ve done?_

When it was her, she talked about his job at the Bulletin most of the time. She talked about Ben and Foggy and, sometimes, she talked about Matt. She didn’t talk about his brother because she was afraid of the questions she couldn’t answer and she didn’t want to lie to Frank.

And yet, Karen felt like a liar anyway.

Fran had always told her the truth, he didn’t hide anything from her and there she was, talking bullshit while the nightmares of what she had done were still haunting her after all those years.

It was already downing when Karen decided to leave for a walk before starting her day at the Bulletin. She left a pot of white roses on her window before leaving.

When she came home that night after work, Frank was waiting at her door. She had his phone number and they talked all the time. The flowers’ signal was no longer necessary and she wasn’t even sure it was still working, but for some reason, it felt easy that way.

“Are you ok?”

Karen nodded while opening the door. She didn’t say a word until they came to the kitchen. Frank was just right in front of her, waiting. She took a deep breath.

“I killed a man.”

Frank’s eyes checked her for a moment. Then they checked her apartment, as he was expecting to find the body lying right there. He didn’t seem surprised or even worried. Just _professional_.

“When?”

She placed herself on her coach, leaving her heels on the floor.

“It’s a long story.”

Frank just nodded, sitting next to her.

 “Go on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Punisher season two is almost here and I'm excited to see what they've done with Kastle (even if we won't get as much as the first season). So I wanted to pick up this story again, even if this chapter is a little short. When I started to write this story we didn't know anything about Karen's past and now the whole Wesley situation is also resolved, so I'm not going to write any different about it. I'll just adapt the circunstances a bit to fit Frank and this scenario there. Hope you enjoy :)


	6. Chapter 6

“Karen.”

Frank was sitting next to her, waiting for her confession -looking calmer than she had never seen him before, still _professional_ \- and Karen was hit by the certainty of how wrong David Lieberman was about Frank. If she told him about Wilson, there would be no way to keep Frank Castle from getting involved in her mess with Fisk – not that she didn’t know _that_ already. There won’t be any waiting for the circumstances to come searching for them. Frank would be the one going first, the one hitting harder than anyone else, and Fisk would make it personal against _him_. And that was the last thing she wanted.

“Karen?”

Frank was watching her carefully. She took a deep breath. David Lieberman was – in fact- right in one thing.

He needed to know the truth.

“My brother. Kevin. I- killed my brother, Frank.”

Her lips moved before she had time to ever think about what she was saying and she stumbled over her words. Karen saw that familiar adjustment in his gaze- eyelids slightly closing- that she had come to identify as a genuine amazement. Some disbelief also.

“I thought it was a car accident.”

“It was.”

It shouldn’t be like that probably. All those times she wanted to tell Frank about her brother - that’s not how she had pictured it at all. Not that she ever had any specific _confession plan_ in mind, but surely it wouldn’t have been like that – telling him the truth about her brother but just to keep hiding her _other_ truth.

Yet again, things never happened according to a previous plan with Frank anyway, so maybe that was just the right time- because once she started, she couldn’t control it.

She told him everything, not just the accident. She exposed the Karen she was most ashamed of, the things she did, the lies that were told to cover the whole incident. She told him every detail until her voice broke under the weight of her own past that was still chasing her.

Then, she just felt emptiness.

Frank was still sitting at her side without saying a word when she couldn’t talk anymore. Karen had barely looked at him during her stupid monologue, not sure of what she was going to find once their eyes would met again.

“Why are you telling me this now, Karen?”

_Why indeed._

“Did something happened? Your father? That… _Todd_?”

His voice was softer than she expected first, then his words were full of disdain when he got to say her ex-boyfriend name.

“No. It’s just- when you talk about your family, I know it’s hard but I also know that it makes you feel better. I never talk about Kevin and I’m sick of hiding the truth about him when I talk to you. I- wonder if it would make me feel better if I start talking about him too.”

_And it’s time to start discounting the lies._

She was, indeed, tired of hiding. All those phone talks they had at nights with Frank telling her about the nightmares that kept him awake, sharing all his memories with her…She wanted that too. She wanted to talk about her own nightmares even, to laugh remembering his brother, to _live_ with his memory and not just despite it.

Karen felt a firm squeeze of her hand and her eyes travelled across their tangled fingers before looking at Frank openly again. Frank the professional, was gone. Now his gaze was ease and pure warmth in a way she had never seen him before. Her fingertips tickled over his palm.

“You made some bad choices, Karen, and now you have to pay for the consequences the rest of your life. Doesn’t mean is fair. Doesn’t mean you deserved it either.”

_Does it?_

“I took the only thing it mattered in my life away from me, Frank. I did that.”

“You were just a scared kid, Karen.”

_No._

He couldn’t do that. She won’t let him.

“Please, don’t try to make me feel better about this.”

_Because maybe you get it if just for a moment, and I don’t deserve it._

Karen stood up abruptly while trying to move her hand away from his, but Frank didn’t let go. He didn’t move from his place in the sofa either. So Karen was left there, standing right in front of him at the verge of tears-her hand trapped between frank’s fingers.

“Karen.”

“Don’t.”

“If you wanna play a proper tribute to your brother’s memory just as you said, you need to forgive yourself first.”

Karen burst out a bitter laugh, while trying to wash away some tears with her free hand.

“So says _the Punisher_.”

Frank squeezed her hand tougher.

“I’m getting closer, Karen. I’m getting closer and it’s thanks to my brother Curt, and it’s thanks to the Liebermans. And it’s thanks to you.”

He released her hand gently, getting up from the couch.

“You asked me to stay, Karen and I’m here. Let me be _here_ for this.”

Frank stepped closer to her while she was failing to find her own voice – his always agitated energy evolving her body.

_I’m here._

Frank brushed his lips against her forehead, both hands holding her cheeks before wrapping his arms around her as her entire body trembled with a sudden wave of crying she couldn’t control anymore. And then she just didn’t want to control it.

Karen couldn’t remember when was the last time she didn’t have to cry alone over her brother’s death. Maybe now she didn't have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the last chapter, I like to be more truthful to the canon than not, but now we know they had basically ignored the whole DDS3 and it seems like Frank doesn’t even know about Karen and Fisk with the whole “he was out the country” plot, let’s see how I can fix that, lol. Also, I write a few chapters ago about Karan’s family and Kevin in a flashback but I won’t revisit that part of the story either, for canon reasons. Thanks a lot for reading! :)


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